Battle Royale : IMPORT
by mattsuoh
Summary: 2 classes are selected randomly from around the world and flown to a remote island off the shore of japan. once there they must fight until only one class remains


Battle Royale : IMPORT  
  
00 The Journey  
  
Collage trips were mostly routine for the students of Yale collage. Especially those on a Wednesday for the multimedia students, which was more sacred to most students than any other day of the year, because it was the only day the second years never had lessons and were free to do whatever work they needed, which kept them out of the way of the first year students who were still finding there feet. Most Collage trips where either to galleries or University shows. Most students hated all the trips except for the all-important London trip in which they visited varied pubs, clubs and off-licences after a hard days cultural beating around the city's museums and galleries. Ah the London trip was the best indeed and every single one of the students had their own unique plans for when the bus arrived later that day.  
  
The two equally ugly dreary yellow buses drove through the heavy cutting rain which banged against the steamed up windows of the leading bus, which carried the second year multimedia students, as it pulled up to a junction in the very early hours of the morning. The radio blared out some pop song as various shouts or laughs tried to rival it, most followed by cheerful cries or more shouts. The bus pulled away again and the few students either sitting too far to the edge of there seat or kneeling on it to speak to the student behind them momentarily went off balance as the bus turned around the wet junction and off at the right exit. This caused a few non-directed profanity-filled sentences.  
  
Matt Jenkins, who had remarkably been able to sleep through both the noise and the shaky driving, slowly unfolded his arms then pulled his black hat up from over his eyes as he woke up. He then yawned stretching his arms up over his head then sat himself up straight. He wasn't the most active of the group at all and was probably the most random thing the other students had ever seen. He turned his head towards the person who was sitting next to him and tried to some how catch his attention. Mark Jones was sat forward in his seat unable to hear anything as his brand new MIDI player was blaring out an amazing amount of bass. He sat there, leaning on the very edge of the brown imitation leather that most seats on buses have, throwing his head around with his eyes closed and his mouth miming the lyrics to a song written by a band that matt had probably never heard of in his life. Whilst matt had a very vast knowledge and love for things like movies, anime and comics all that combined would never even be half as much knowledge than mark knew about music. Punk music mostly (, or rock depending what mood he was in).  
  
Directly in front of them sat Stuart Harris and Andrew (or as he preferred Andy) Crewe. The two of them chatting rather avidly about some new sitcom episode or some old band from the 80's. Andy must have a good impression of a main character or something because Stuart threw his head forward laughing, causing Matt to look who was sat across the isle from them. It was the most professional pair of students in the group Nicola Keene and Gary Booth. Not professional couple, no but professional as in business terms, Gary being the oldest in the class being in his early 40's and Nicola being 19 but no matter what their age was there skills with a camera where almost equal as far as matt could see. They sat hunched together holding up a set of photographic negatives trying hard to examine them in the dim neon light of the bus. Reahnon Hargrievs was kneeling on her seat in front of them also trying to make out the black and white negatives.  
  
Not being able to see who was sat next to her Matt then cast his eyes across the aisle past Mark's vicious head banging, momentarily wondering how he has never broke his neck doing it, to see Lewis Hayes and Liam Crosbie Making funny voices and expressions with both there faces and hands whilst they simultaneously laughed and read some sort of magazine. 'Knowing them its probably a film mag' matt thought then turned to look behind him. Liam's large frame and slightly military blondish looking buzz cut made him look a little intimidating whilst Lewis's skinny looking body but wide shoulders and strong arms also gave off a scary vibe when you saw him for the first time. But in reality they were as scary as the latest Disney movie. They were the type of people who managed to make anything funny whether it was hiding the other's bag on top of a door-way when they went out of the room for a second during a boring lesson or starting up a joke that they could use a few days later. Those 2 as far as Matt knew were the oldest pair of friends on his course.  
  
At the back of the bus he could hear the voices of Tom Williams and David Mitchell but he couldn't see them from where he was sitting so he guessed they were sitting directly behind him at the back. Along with them he could see Krystal Unwin, Matthew Woodward and Alex Burton. To avoid confusion during conversations Matthew Woodward became nicknamed 'Woody' and Matt Jenkins became Jenkie or Jenkie-poo. Tom, Woody and Mitch (as David liked to be called) were the 'Skater' group who hung out around Skate Park's or the local car park sometimes accompanied by Krystal. Tom and Woody were the tallest of the group and both looked at least a little similar as they both had shortish dirty blond hair and blue eyes. As he tried to listen to their shouts he glanced past the two people behind him, whom he made out to be Abby Evans and Ceri Pugh but having just woken up, Matt's eyes became blurry for a few seconds. After shaking his head and blinking a few times he confirmed this. Ceri was sat by the window and looking out of it quietly whilst Abby was reading a magazine, momentarily looking up and smiling Friendly at Matt before carrying on reading. Ceri and Abby where both around the same size around 5' 3" and both liked the same sort of things so they were easily friends.  
  
Turning back around Matt looked out through the window he was sat by after wiping the dripping condensation off of it. He had just peered out of the window into the still dark morning sky as distant town lights created a very dim orange glow over the treetops and the bypass's lampposts illuminated the wet shiny black tarmac when he was tapped on the shoulder. Mark withdrew his arm and then pulled out the closest earphone to Matt and asked the time. After hearing the answer he thanked him and reinserted his headphone before continuing his head banging. After the brief encounter matt bent forward to pick up his book bag which lay half under the seat in front of him. Grabbing the rubber shoulder rest on the main strap he pulled the bag onto his lap and pulled the Velcro flap open then pulling out a few thin comic books then put the flap back then dropped his bag to the floor. The covers where filled with titles like Spawn, The Curse Of Spawn, Battle Pope and ManMachine Interface. He sat reading His Comics For a while then oddly and Slowly fell asleep again just like the rest of the buses passengers who one by one became drowsy and quiet before falling in to a deep slumber. All except the driver who as soon as he saw the last person close their eyes through the glass rimmed mask he was wearing, turned off what he thought was terrible music and carried on driving in the direction of the English capital. After a few hours the road forked and the bus branched off in the direction of a private airfield just outside London where military personnel saluted the bus as it first slowly pulled up next to the airfield security entrance booth. Then under the raised barrier and on to the furthest hanger, which had to be twice the size of the others. The horn cut through the sound of the rain banging against the metal doors of the hanger, which read "TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT!" The doors slid apart and a troop of soldiers jogged towards the bus wearing gas masks and pointing brand new M16 Machine rifles at the floor as they moved. They lined up in front of the bus as the driver opened the bus door and stepped out in to the rain wearing a shiny black oxygen mask which he pulled off as the soldiers saluted him and ran inside the hanger as the soldier at the front climbed the stairs in to the bus and sat in the drivers seat, then drove the bus inside the hanger followed by the other troops. About ten minutes later the second bus arrived and the process was repeated. The two drivers where each handed a thick envelope by a rather shady looking soldier in sunglasses they nodded and watched in pity as the buses where driven on to a giant transport plane. Shortly after sunrise the plane roared in to the sky and climbed above the clouds.  
  
The club must have hit hard because Matt was only awake a few seconds before he was unconscious again. 


End file.
